


Walking in the Rain

by 3amFanfic



Category: Carry On - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-13
Updated: 2017-12-13
Packaged: 2019-02-14 05:46:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13001127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/3amFanfic/pseuds/3amFanfic
Summary: Baz loves the rain. Simon catches him soaking in its glory.





	Walking in the Rain

**Author's Note:**

> All characters are the property of awesome Rainbow Rowell 
> 
> Sorry if this isn't very good, its one of my first fanfictions. :)  
> Hope you enjoy anyway.
> 
> P.S. A very insignificant detail, but in this AU Simon never dated Agatha

SIMON

I pull the back of my jumper up over my head to shield myself from the pouring rain as I duck into Mummers House and hurry up the stairs to my room. Shaking droplets free from my hair, I open the door. Baz isn't here, which is unusual as on Thursdays his classes finish early.

The window next to my bed is wide open. I like to annoy Baz with the sunlight that normally streaks through, but now it means my desk is soaking and there is a small puddle at the base of my bed. I curse before grabbing a towel from our en-suite bathroom and attempting to mop up the mess. Once I have done my best, I reach up to close the window, but a lone figure outside catches my attention.

The grounds are empty; everyone has run for shelter from the unexpected late summer downpour. But there is Baz, standing with his face turned up toward the sky, drops of water pelting his face and arms outstretched as he twirls in the storm. His black hair is loose and soaked, lying plastered to his pale, sharp face in dark waves. Even though no one in their right mind would be out there in this weather, Baz still looked calm and graceful. But in that moment where he pirouettes in the chaos of the sky, his face opens up, and a vulnerability that I have never seen passes through his expression, his eyebrows usually full of tension finally unclenching, and the tiniest hint of a smile playing across his pink lips. His clothes are drenched, shirt clinging to his chest. I squint through the haze of water to try to make out more of his expression. Is it only the rain or is there a tiny trickle caressing his cheek, a single tear tracking its way down his face to his chin? Baz turns, his back facing our window, and begins to trudge away, his ebony hair whipping in the wind.

 

* * *

 

BAZ

The evening sky has clouded over in preparation for the storm to come. I turn back to my essay, finishing it with a flourish of my wrist.

Snow walks out of the bathroom, dressed but still dripping from the shower. A couple minutes later, we hear the first clap of thunder as the rain begins to pelt down. Snow's head snaps up toward the window, his eyes wide with shock.

"Scared of a little storm, Snow?" I taunt, packing up my books. Snow growls, and turns back to his laptop. I grab a thick scarf from the hook by the entrance and wind it around my neck. Snow looks up at me in surprise, his eyes bluer than ever and stretched in confusion under the flop of tangled bronze curls that is splayed over his forehead.

"Where are you going?" he questions, his face gently cocked to one side, one hand running through his hair.

"Out. Obviously." I reply coolly, rolling my eyes and pulling on a coat as I open the door.

"But…it's raining..." Simon trails off as his brow creases in confusion.

_That's the point_ , I think to myself, but I don’t answer Snow, instead I walk outside, slamming the door behind me.

Once I have exited the Watford building, the storm is well and truly underway. I turn up the collar of my coat, before closing my eyes and stepping out into the downpour.

 

SIMON

I don’t understand. He didn’t even take an umbrella.

 

BAZ

I head out to a place where the rain can fall freely on my face, without the hungry stare of eyes. I feel almost giddy with anticipation for the relief the cool water brings as it hails down from the clouds above. That single moment when the raindrops afflict my face and drench my clothes is one of the very few that make me feel alive. When I can relax, let my guard down for a minute. Let the emotions creep up past the walls I block them with, until I shove them back out, knowing the rain while hide my tears.

 

SIMON

He must be plotting something. Why wouldn’t he take an umbrella? It was right there next to the door! In a split second decision, I decide to follow him. It’s only been about a minute since he left, so I’m sure I’ll be able to catch up. I grab the untouched umbrella on the way out, and close the door hurriedly behind me as I clumsily jog down the stairs.

 

I have underestimated the weather

 

BAZ

Near the entrance to the catacombs is a small archway that leads to an open-roofed court. It hasn’t been well preserved though, dark green vines snag their ways across the pillars and moss mottles the pearly white walls. There is only one flickering lantern near the archway, the rest of the court is shadowed by the buildings around it, and the storm clouds block any light from the sun. Once I reach it, I pause for as moment underneath the arch, which provides meagre protection from the rain lashing down diagonally. I’m already wet, my hair beginning to regain its natural wave, my teeth chattering from the cold. I don’t really mind though. I’m used to being cold.

 

SIMON

I battle with the wind as it attempts to wrench the umbrella out of my hands, the rain pouring ever more aggressively down. I stall underneath a small alcove before running toward the catacombs, where I can see Baz’s outline against a lantern. I wonder if he's just going to drain a few rodents, but he walks past, toward an archway, so I follow as quietly as I can behind him. Thankfully, the cacophony of the storm hides the sounds of my motions as I edge closer.

 

BAZ

I inhale deeply before marching out to the centre of the court. The rain is sharp, tiny needles against my arms and face. With every strike, the emotions I keep bottled up sting back to existence. My mother’s death. The dying screech of every rat I have to drain just to fucking stay alive. Simon bloody Snow staring me down with hatred in his eyes. A sob escapes my mouth, and I collapse on the floor.

 

SIMON

I was wrong. I really shouldn’t be here. I quickly run back to our room. I hesitate before closing the door and returning to my desk, trying to appear as if I never left. My efforts are wasted, Baz doesn’t return until I’m almost asleep, startling me with the soft sound of the door closing behind him as he slumps into bed, shivering and wet.

 

* * *

 

SIMON

After that, I never follow him into the rain again. I never question him. I let him slam the door as hail rattles on our roof. But I watch him when I can. From our window or the ramparts, sometimes even the roof. The Inner Baz fascinates me. When his perfect face loses its grimness. When his eyes lose their foggy sheen, become as stormy as the sky, a shadowed window to his broken soul. A soul that I’m beginning to want to heal.

 

* * *

BAZ

It’s the Christmas holidays, and since I haven’t been able to face my parents this year, I’m staying at Watford, along with a random assortment of first and third years, and Simon Snow, as usual. It surprised me when I found out he stayed here every year. I don’t know why. I guess I assumed he’d have something better than Christmas spent with his arch-nemesis to look forward to.

 

SIMON

Baz is staying at Watford this Christmas. I’m surprised to say the least. Who would choose a mostly abandoned school over a fancy family mansion? I guess there's more to the story.  


BAZ

I wonder if it’s going snow. The sky is looking grey, but I’m not sure if it’s cold enough yet. I spend the day curled up in the library with an old book.

 

SIMON

I’m moping about our room, empty of Baz- he’s in the library- when the soft patter of rain begins against our window. I instantly think of Baz and rush to the window. I can’t see him. Without thinking, I fly out the door, run through the rain and to the small court near the catacombs.

He isn’t there either. The rain is torrential now, and a flash of lightning lights up the dimming sky. A few minutes pass. I can sort of understand why Baz loves the rain theres something freeing about just stand-

“Snow?” I hear an incredulous voice behind me and turn to see a very confused Baz squinting at me through the rain.

 

BAZ

_What the hell?_ I think as soon as I see Snow’s silhouette inside the court.

“Snow?” I murmur.

He turns to look at me. His eyes are wide and his mouth is panting. His white shirt is soaked and sticking to his chest. I try to avoid staring.

“Why are you here?” I question, still not comprehending the situation at all.

He doesn’t reply, just takes a tentative step closer. My senses become hyperaware.

 

SIMON

I have no idea what I’m doing. Baz just looks so confused standing there, a swatch of dark hair hanging limpidly over his right eye, his brow furrowed. Raindrops slide down the pearly white skin of his angular face. I take another step towards him. He arches a single eyebrow at me.  
“What are you doing Snow??!”

“Baz, I-“

His eyes are grey and green and blue all at the same time, deep and unguarded, peering at me sceptically.

All of a sudden, the desire rushes through me. I want him. Right now, here in the storm. Why did we ever fight? Oh. That’s right. Because he hates me.

His lips are pursed, and devoid of colour, but they look soft and welcoming.

 

BAZ

What the actual fuck is he doing?  
His eyes scour my face. I almost want to flinch, there’s something in his eyes that’s so fiery and unyielding. Is it just my imagination, or does his gaze linger on my lips? I shift uncomfortably. He looks so hot standing there. Maybe I should just kiss him. His mouth is still hanging slightly open, as per usual. Mouth breather. But his lips look so full and plush and red.

I blink, the rain blurs my vision for a couple seconds and I reopen them; to find Snow has closed the gap between us and pressed his burning lips to mine.

 

SIMON

Baz is so cold, his mouth pliable and slack with surprise before they push back at my own. I snake a hand through his wet hair that slips through my fingers, as he winds his own around my waist and cocks his face to the side as he kisses me hard on the mouth. We stand there, in the rain, oblivious and blissful.

 

BAZ

Simon is so goddamn hot and the rain is so cold.

Kissing him is better than I ever expected.

The rain pelts down on us, two boys snogging in the middle of a storm.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry if its crap ;)
> 
> Feedback would be appreciated!


End file.
